


butter snoozle

by koogi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Enemies to Lovers, Gryffindor Jeon Jungkook, Jimin is briefly mentioned, M/M, Min Yoongi | Suga Is Bad at Feelings, Ravenclaw Namjoon, Slytherin Min Yoongi | Suga, Slytherin Taehyung, and thats about it, basically yoongi as malfoy and jungkook as harry, crack?????, gryffindor hoseok, hoseok has muggle parents, hufflepuff seokjin, idk honestly, jungkook is baby, kicking, ravenclaw jimin, vhope if you squint hard enough, yoongi is the my father will hear about this kind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 07:37:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19741156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koogi/pseuds/koogi
Summary: there was just something about the way jeon jungkook buttered his toast in the morning that was absolutely annoying and stupid. and made yoongi want to kick him.





	butter snoozle

there was just something about the way jeon jungkook buttered his toast in the morning that was absolutely _annoying_ and _stupid_.

"i just want to kick him," yoongi said that one particular morning, rather vindictively, glaring daggers across the hall over to the gryffindor table where jeon jungkook was obliviously buttering his toast. jeon had three pieces, and he was slathering them with the yellow paste one by one. he was gripping onto the edges too tightly, making the crumbs fall and dust the table below. he was concentrating very hard, yoongi could see. his eyebrows were furrowed and his tongue was peeking out of his mouth. it was very pink and it annoyed yoongi to no end. he was slathering the toast with smooth butter calculatedly. he was just gonna lean forward to speak to his stupid friends and the butter was going to stick to the front of his robes. it always did.

"do you want me to do it for you?" jin replied, as if they just could and no one would stop them. maybe jin actually would go. and probably no one would stop him. jeon's stupid mudblood was watching them, yoongi noticed, which was rather appalling and made him impulsively say, "yes".

"but, hyung, you can't let on to mcgonagall that i said you should," yoongi hastened, as jin pushed himself up with both hands.

"alright shut up," seokjin replied.

"well, of course he's going to be caught," taehyung supplied, slow and with each syllable drawn out, and even that didn't help much. "he's kicking him at his house table. everyone will see him."

jin frowned. "i thought i'd make it look like an accident."

"how?" taehyung asked, tired already.

seokjin pondered this. or maybe, probably, he was just a bit hungry.

jeon picked up his second piece of toast, sticky fingers fumbling with the knife. "i just want to kick him," yoongi muttered.

"so you've said, hyung." taehyung was looking at him funny. like he wasn't always saying he wanted to kick stupid jeon.

seokjin's eyes refocused. "do you want me to do it for you?"

*  
there was something very satisfying about the thought of his foot connecting with some soft, vulnerable portion of jeon's body - despite the fact that this was very unlikely. since, you know, jeon was all malnourished skin and bones anyway, with long legs and arms.

though the malnourished aspect could actually come in handy, as jeon would then, in theory, tend to bruise and shatter fairly easily. that was certainly a happy thought.

yoongi decided to think long and hard about it, all day long.

*  
"yoongi keeps kicking me in my sleep," jungkook said, shuffling into potions with an odd limp to his step. he dropped his wand to the desk. "it's rather odd."

"yoongi is sneaking in?" hoseok squeaked within a whisper. "slytherin, oh, oh this is bad jungkook. they have our password, that means. they must."

jungkook blinked. "i meant in my dreams, hyung."

"oh," hoseok said. he paused and furrowed his brows. "do you think it's a spell?"

"a spell?"

"oh you know, some kind of... kicking you in your sleep type spell."

"i don't think there are incantations for that sort of thing, " namjoon replied solemnly.

"and he doesn't always kick me the same way, " jungkook added.

hoseok wrinkled his nose. "there are different ways?"

"yes, hyung," jungkook answered grimly.

jungkook really sort of hated his life.

*  
yoongi took to lurking about mid-quidditch practice, but since jungkook was in the air - and awake - he figured his shins and various other battered body parts were safe. still, it made him all twitchy.

"why do you keep-" jungkook began to ask once he'd landed.

"i'm spying," yoongi said, and arched an eyebrow.

jungkook raised both of his own. "well then you're not doing a very good job of it."

"fuck off, kid," yoongi muttered, and started in for the dormitories, probably because it was getting kinda chilly. probably why his cheeks were all pink. and why his hands were clammy. and why his heart was beating a tad bit faster. yeah, it was definitely chilly.

what he missed though, was that jungkook was sporting equally pink cheeks and equally clammy hands and an equally erratic heartbeat behind him. it must be really chilly.

it was mid-july.

*  
there was something about the dreams that made jungkook feel like he should be naked. they felt like that one other dream he had had back in first year where he'd found himself pushing open the common room's door, and everyone was gathering for breakfast and he'd followed them out - only realizing three steps later that he had forgotten his trousers and robes and everything else (except for socks) and was in the nude. and people were pointing and laughing and he'd dropped his wand and colored himself purple. the dreams felt like that.

they had that same sort of feel - though not within the dreams, but in the moments afterward. it carried on all throughout the morning, this tight clenching stomach feeling, and it was like the dreams were stained beside the scar, on the center of his forehead. or his chest. his chest felt the weirdest.

*  
"you can just quit it, okay?" jungkook said, catching yoongi in the hallway with a rough prod of his books. "because it's weird."

taehyung snickered. "name finally gone to your head and around the bend, eh jeon?"

"jeon's lost it," seokjin announced loudly.

yoongi watched him with hooded eyes. there was only a flicker of dark where the lids met, but jungkook just knew they were looking at him. jungkook bent to press lightly on his right ankle, smoothing away a sudden sizzle in the bone, and then sprang back up.

"look, just stop it," jungkook hissed, and tried not to touch yoongi's robe as he shouldered past, because that felt weird too.

though yoongi's house being what it was, maybe he was supposed to feel all under-your-skin slithery.  
maybe that was just how all slytherins were.

but he had never had complains about any other slytherin before. ever.

*  
the absolute very oddest thing was what yoongi did in the dreams after kicking him.

he helped jungkook back up.

one time he even kissed the wound better. that was definitely the strangest dream jungkook had ever had. the day after was even weirder.

*

jungkook tended to fall down a lot, which was beginning to border on utterly humiliating.

it was surprisingly distracting to have yet another body flanking him at every turn, popping out around every corner. surprisingly so, because it wasn't as if he didn't already have five or six. It came with the territory: Quidditch Champion; The Hot Gryffindor Boy; Jung Hoseok's Cute Friend; Master Of The Potion's Class; That Boy Over There Who's Kind Of Cute, Even Though He's Sitting With The Know-It-All.

but min yoongi.

it made for very poor hand and eye coordination.

*

"yoongi's stalking you?" jimin thumbed hair out of his eyes, and leaned further over the table to snag jungkook's divinations scroll.

jungkook's eyes narrowed, and he snatched the parchment back. "yes."

"and this is, in any way, something new?"

jungkook scowled. "yes."

"it's not new, jungkookie."

professor trelawney received the tragic news that afternoon: jimin would be, during the next month, both eaten by a griffin, which would chew on him for approximately nine days, and then regurgitated and fed to a house elf. only to find out he had only gone back home to visit his sick grandmother.

*

hogwart's hallways were surprising tight, and the swell of students between classes pushed insistently at the walls, mashing groups of pupils together and mixing them like...salad.

yoongi decided, quite vehemently, that he hated salad.

seokjin and taehyung might lumber along, yes, but it was better than the dashing, every which way, and squawking about secret plans -- which weren't secret at all, because everyone could hear all about them. and having them around helped navigate too. they were a little taller, you see. the exploding candies and alarming smattering of freckles everywhere he directed himself, which were always getting in the way of things he wasn't particularly wanting to look at, no, but more like keep an eye on. he only trusted jeon as far as he could levitate him, and yoongi had always had been much more successful with divination than charms.

salad was quite simply a dreadful thing.

a war against produce, yoongi thought, takes no prisoners, and when he was bumped once more, beside the north tower, he kicked jeon jungkook quite hard in the shin.

in a sort of slow motion, delayed reaction bend, jungkook's mouth dropped wide and round, his big eyes widened, his chest twitching as he clapped a hand to it. "ow!" he hadn't actually been kicked in the chest, not even in its general vicinity, and that made yoongi want to kick him again.

"mr. min!" professor hooch strode through a pack of first years, thick boots stomping purposely across the floor.

"i tripped," yoongi declared. he hobbled towards her, for emphasis.

"he did _not_!"

"i'm actually in a lot of pain," yoongi continued earnestly. "there's a wet patch beside this classroom door, and my knee appears to have given way. jeon has very knobby shins, actually, and i think it may have jarred a bone."

hooch let out a slight cough and inquired, with a tinge of bemusement, "do you think you'll be needing to see madame pomfrey?"

"yes, i believe i will," yoongi said, quite gravely. "and perhaps jungkook," he displayed a sickeningly sweet smile and directed it at jungkook, "should as well, since i accidentally seem to have injured him."

"i'm fine," jungkook said, shaking off the teacher's concerned prodding.

yoongi grinned sharply, and cocked his head. "then what were you yelling about?"

"you-"

"honestly, jeon. such martyr complex."

jungkook took a good look at madame hooch, said a wistful goodbye to twenty house points, and kicked min yoongi, sharp and quick, at the bone of his ankle.

*

"it was worth it," jungkook grunted.

he marched through the dormitory entrance, littering his path with leaves and clumps of roots, smeared upon the wood from his shoes and sliding off his shoulders and down his arms. snape had sent him to gather a base ingredient for deflating draught from a glade in the forbidden forest, which just so happened to be very near the happy home of hagrid's spiders.

jungkook was still panting in search of his breath, swollen and purple knuckled fingers fumbling with his cupboard, in desperate pursuit of pajamas. he was very content -- overjoyed, in fact.

"i'm sure it was," remarked namjoon, and returned to his arithmancy homework.

*  
yoongi was explaining, very carefully and in a well-organized, numbered and categorized fashion, why jeon jungkook should never be allowed to breakfast at the same hour as him ever again, but his father didn't appear to be listening.

it was important, because sometimes jeon wouldn't even brush off his robes, and the leftover toast would just be sticking there, and yoongi would see it, and it made his hands all twitchy. jeon was so stupid and annoying.

"and saint jeon, he's too pure for a bath, apparently, and carries on all day just like that, with _crumbs_ -"

"crumbs?" said his father, rather darkly, and yoongi was very glad that the situation was finally receiving that attention it deserved.

"yes, on his _quidditch_ _robes_ , even, and probably on his _special_ _broom_."

"i believe," his father murmured, drawing himself up tall and thin, chin pointing sharply downward, "that it would be best for all involved if you simply ignore mr. jeon."

"but i can't," said yoongi desperately.

"well," there was a pregnant pause, and his father's eyes felt heavy upon him before turning to track the movements of his mother. "you will have to try."

*

"i can't," yoongi informed jungkook.

"um, what?"

jungkook continued to eat his toast, until yoongi turned it into a small field mouse, which scurried under the table, between their legs, and clearly somewhere very close to lavendar brown, for she let out a loud whoop and her shoes clattered upon the bench.

yoongi had tried very hard for exactly thirteen days, rising early to eat with marcus, who practiced before first class behind the garden hedges, spinning in tight circles and thwapping a quaffle between the two eastern pillars. if he ate breakfast late, he ate it with both eyes fixed firmly on his lap, jaw working hurriedly.

he had tried terribly hard, but then wonderful, witty jeon was speaking extra loud in potions, and he had the nerve to be up just as early yoongi was the very next day, and sat all alone at the gryffindor table, with his mussed hair piled in twisted layers onto of his head and sticking out pointedly for everyone to gawk at and admire, and yoongi so wanted to kick him. it was nearly a physical ache.

"just," yoongi flailed for a bit, and ran a hand messily through his hair. it was quite unlike him. "stop."

"stop what?" jungkook had the nerve to look puzzled.

"stop being so. so you," insisted yoongi, finally, tried not to think about it. he thought, instead he could maybe try something else.

"you kick me again, and i swear," jungkook said.

"you swear what, jeon?" yoongi replied testily.

tightening the set of his jaw, jungkook pulled himself to half-standing, in that way that heroes always seemed to do, with one foot poised on the bench. "something very bad will happen to you."

"something very bad has already happened to me, jeon," yoongi informed him, and thought about bread. and knives. and jeon's warm fingers, suddenly hyperaware of their close proximity. they bumped against his.

somehow jeon's and his fingers were stuck together.

"oh," jungkook said, and his foot was a little less poised, and a bit more wobbly.

"yeah," yoongi muttered, pointedly glaring at his shoes like they had something to do with the way his cheeks were rapidly heating up.

stupid jeon.

yoongi kissed him.

**Author's Note:**

> damn lmao what a bunch of losers 
> 
> come talk to me on twitter! @g69gie!!


End file.
